How Energy Medicine Chose Me

People often ask how I got into energy medicine. The answer is simple: I experienced it.

My first time receiving energy work was on retreat eight years ago. The experience broke open a level of insight, clarity, and relief that I never knew existed. It confirmed that my spiritual life wasn’t all in my imagination, but rather a real world of mysticism within and around me. I felt simultaneously comforted and challenged, rooted and in flight, profoundly human and profoundly divine, heartbreakingly loved, acutely aware of my brokenness, but also of its impermanence.

At that time in my life, I was deep in trenches dug by emotional abuse at the hands of someone I loved, an eating disorder, and a self-destructive desire to please everyone. Energy Therapy shed light on the grace in my life at a time when darkness threatened to blind me. It breathed life into my courage so I could find a way out of self-hatred. It honored where I was and gently ushered me forward into a new way of being in myself and the world. It helped me grow into the woman I am today.

From the moment I received it, I knew I was called to share it.

Is something inside you saying “YES” to this? Click here.

An Easy Body

photo by Glow Boudoir

You know those people who seem to have all the physical features you envy wrapped up in one glorious, flawless body? I had a name for those people or, more accurately, their bodies. I called them easy bodies. In my comparison addled mind, they were perfect. They had it easy. Please laugh at the absolute absurdity of this and be compassionate with yourself if you still frequent the comparison vortex. We all get pulled in from time to time.

Thankfully, I learned that having a certain body type doesn’t mean your life is more or less easy than someone with a different body type. I caught myself thinking she has such an easy body the other day about an acquaintance. And then I chose a thought I’ve never consciously chosen before: I have an easy body, too. Several hours later, I reflected on that thought and realized that an easy body means something totally different to me now. Over this past year, a term I used spitefully and with a tinge of jealousy and self-hatred has turned into a celebration.

What I see when I look at a woman with an easy body is not her actual shape, but rather how she inhabits it.

I see a woman sated by her life.
I see a woman deeply in love with every curve of her complexity.
I see a woman that takes pleasure in the rise of her hungers and relishes the adventure of feeding them.
I see a woman at home in the temple of her bones and blood.
I see a woman unafraid of surrendering.
I see a woman unapologetically honest about her needs, desires, values and boundaries.
I see a woman in passionate pursuit of her own heart.
I see a woman who has unbridled her joy.
I see a woman sure of her strength.
I see a woman creating the poetry of her soul.
I see a woman immensely gentle with herself and the world.
I see a woman set loose.
I see a woman awash in pleasure.
I see a woman awake.
I see a woman who uses her body as a compass.
I see a woman at peace.
I see a woman.

About halfway through that list, I realized I was talking about myself, too. That’s what I see when I look in the mirror. And it doesn’t matter if I’m having a crazy hair day or my jeans won’t button. All of those qualities and freedoms and breathtaking beauty are not contingent on my body type. They’re the outcome of self-love.

What do you see when you look in the mirror? And how does that view color the way you see other people?

Much love,
Hilarie Mae

Why I Write

Photo by Glow Boudoir

Last week, Sheila Kennedy asked me why I write.

The simple answer: I write because I find words enchanting. They captivate me, much like any artist or creator is captivated by the building blocks of their medium. I read a lot as a child, especially historical fiction. Losing myself in other times and other worlds was deeply satisfying to me. I loved the idiosyncrasies of characters and the way a simple description could conjure such vivid experiences of sight, sound, and smell in my mind. I was hooked. Now crafting words as an adult feels like play. The blending of structure and limitless possibilities provides fertile ground for my curiosity, desire to express my inner life, and my calling to serve.

The mystical, magical, and miraculous have a way of getting lost in translation. To be fair, part of the sacredness of some experiences is their inexpressible nature. Sometimes the depth of an experience renders it forever secret. However, I find that writing about my inner life often magnifies its holiness and realness. It’s easy to brush off sacred moments, moments when the eyes of our heart grow wide with awe, and distract ourselves with outer stimulation. Writing allows me to paint my inner life with words and birth ideas. Every writer and artist is a midwife.

How do you express your ideas and experiences?

p.s. speaking of writing, this Pinterest board is where I keep all my favorite words.

The First Step to Getting Your Needs Met

Photo by Ajari

Photo by Ajari

Food used to be the only craving I could hear over my cacophony of unmet needs. The bereft soul has a very limited attention span for things that challenge it to grow.

However, the more you deny what you need, the bigger that need becomes.

Several years of work later, I find myself full of cravings that aren’t edible in the physical sense. For example, sometimes I crave being at the symphony. The music sets me on fire. I emerge from those halls of sound dazed, as a phoenix might be upon emerging purified from flame. I emerge purged and satisfied. The beast within purrs her approval.

I used to believe that if I let her out to play, if I unleashed her rampant need and unwavering cravings, her and I would devour the world, leaving behind a wake of empty shells, resentment and pain. Now I find she is decisive in her desire. And when I listen, when I turn inward and nourish her, she stands guard at my balancing point between roots and wings. She defends my time and breathes life into my sense of self. She affirms unequivocally that I am worthy of everything I want. She reminds me that there is a way to meet every need.

Here is my invitation to you: Unleash the beast. 

Let your longings, desires, and cravings out of their cage. Risk being too much – too hungry, too loud, too fat, too thin, too opinionated, too boisterous, too loving, too strong, too vague, too unpredictable, too bold.

When you dare to trust yourself, the magic begins. When you choose freedom and feeling good over keeping other people comfortable, miracles happen.

Much Love,
Hilarie Mae

p.s. click here if you’re ready to take the second step.

Angel vs. Animal

photo by Nana B Agyei

photo by Nana B Agyei

Next time, under think it.

Turn your busy brain off and rest. Ease into the light of truth that already warms your Core Star. Smile back at your bones and blood, for they still beam and pulse and shift to the rhythm of rightness. Their instincts are sharp. They pick up the scent of destiny like a wolf finds the scent of its quietly feeding prey.

Go under the surface of your ego, of its thought and fear and plan-making and proclamations, its pomp and circumstance. Remember that you are a walker of the dream paths. You are mystical. You are etheric. You are an animal piercing through trappings of the false-self.